The Secret Drawer
by coldqueen
Summary: Set in no particular time or setting.  Not cesty or underage fic.  Claire gets a little too curious about what Peter is hiding.  FLUFF SMUT


**Silk scarves.**

**Edible panties.**

**Magnum condoms.**

She could deal with all those items. She could understand all those items because she had already been intimate with most of them. She could reason away the quantity of condoms because she knew that Peter couldn't keep his hands off of her for more than a few hours. She could reason away the edible panties, because damn if they didn't feel good to have eaten off. She could even reason away the scarves because she'd experienced firsthand the delicious heightened awareness that came with being blindfolded.

It was the other items that gave her pause.

**Fur-covered handcuffs.**

**Massage oils, flavored and scented.**

**Vibrator.**

_What did a man need with a vibrator?_ Claire asked herself as she slammed shut Peter's bedside table drawer. She stood up and started to pace, the echoing sound of the shower assuring her that her lover was still occupied.

She hadn't meant to pry, not really. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, that was all. All the times she'd seen him lean over and reach into the drawer, pulling out something sure to make her scream in pleasure, she'd just wanted to see what was in there. She'd wanted to see why he never let her peek.

The shower was still running and she could hear Peter singing some tune through the door and almost without thinking she returned to the drawer. It slid open noiselessly and her hand darted in to move things around.

**K.Y. Jelly.**

**Cock rings. **

**Cat o' nine tails.**

The bathroom door opened across the bedroom and Claire slammed the drawer shut even as she stood and struggled to look normal. Peter vigorously rubbed at his wet hair, a towel carelessly tied around his hips sliding just a bit with every movement. "Hey, what are you doing up?"

Claire smiled tremulously and moved around the bed, wiping damp hands down the cotton nightshirt she wore. It was the only thing she wore and despite the extreme nervousness balling up in her stomach, she could feel a small tickle of warmth form in her nether regions as Peter looked at her hotly. "I woke up when you got up to take your shower."

"Oh," he said simply as he crossed the room quickly to kiss her good morning. He froze when she turned her face at the last minute so that his lips landed on her cheek. He stepped away stiffly and studied her red and guilty face. "What's wrong?"

Claire could not stifle her panic anymore. "You're a pervert, Peter Petrelli!"

He stared at her in shock for a few moments, before that bemused half-grin danced across his face. "You were in my drawer, weren't you?"

Claire flushed again and started to move across the room. "I don't know what you're talking about, Peter, but I'm leaving."

He out and out smiled now, wrapping one long-fingered hand around her arm. "Come on, let me explain."

Claire pulled away and glared. "I don't want explanations."

He laughed and immediately felt guilty when he saw the hurt expression on her face. Without giving her time to react he reached down and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder with ease. The coverlet and sheets were tangled at the bottom of the bed and he gently dropped her down somewhere in the middle. She started to scramble as soon as she stopped bouncing and he straddled her hips to keep her from moving.

She froze at the feel of his bare legs on her and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Peter..."

"Claire..."

He brushed his lips against hers and smiled against them at the sigh that slipped out. Her blush had faded leaving her skin golden in the little dawn light that came through the windows. Her hair was spread out around her, giving the impression of a halo. The scent of raspberries from her shampoo drifted up with the scent of sex and sweat from the night before, mixing and becoming one in Peter's mind.

"You don't really want to leave, do you?"

If she could think, she'd probably have said no. As it was, it took all the thought control she had not to rip away the towel around his waist at that very second. Any tension and nerves on her part had faded away completely as soon as she became horizontal with Peter. It was always that way with him.

Finally Peter sat back up astride her hips and stared down at her in amusement and love. "Listen, babe. I love you."

Claire glared at him and pouted, her pretty pink lips drawn up temptingly. "I love you, too."

"When we first got together you were a virgin. I was not."

"I'm well aware of that."

"I know you're well aware of that, especially now," he said with a grin reaching over into _the_ drawer and rifling around inside it. "We've been together a while, but you're still pretty new at this."

"Is there a point to this or are you just trying to kill me of embarrassment?"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Peter denied, finally finding what he'd been looking for. He grinned at Claire and leaned down to brush another kiss across her lips. Claire watched hungrily as he used one hand to remove the damp towel from his hips and didn't hear when he shut the drawer at the same time. She barely heard when he started to speak again. "I'm just saying; don't knock it until you've tried it."

When the words penetrated the lusty haze that was her thoughts her eyes sparked blue fire. "What do you mean?"

He held up the object in his hand and could barely restrain the laugh blocking his airways at the way her eyes widened. "Claire-"

"Peter! Don't you even think about-"

"-it's perfectly natural-"

"-touching me with that thing!"

"-and is a lot of fun."

They spoke in unison, both of them trying to over speak the other. Claire struggled beneath him, just a bit amused despite the situation. Peter let her struggle even as he thumbed on the object in his hand and skimmed it down her side. Even through her sleep garment she could feel the pleasure it provoked, and the tickle.

With a laugh she broke off her diatribe about Peter's many faults and squirmed under him. He did it again on the other side and this time her laugh was husky with pleasure. He moved his hips lower, baring the upper parts of her legs. He ran the object down her outer thighs, before slowly, torturously, up her inner ones, stopping bare inches from where she suddenly and wetly burned for him.

"Have you ever used a vibrator before, Claire?" He asked in a deep voice, gravelly in its sudden drop.

She shook her head and bit her lip to keep from moaning. He smiled up at her as he slid down lower, almost level with her horizontal body, clearly capable of seeing up her nightshirt, tented by her very aroused nipples. Her hands clenched in the sheets and her legs strained against his body where it held her down.

"I'm a virile, secure man," he whispered confidently, "but even I can admit that they are capable of things that I am not."

Any coherent thoughts had long started to fade from her mind and she moaned around her fist as Peter slowly began to press the vibrating toy up and down her inner legs. Instinct demanded her legs open in wild abandon but Peter's weight kept that from happening.

She bit into her fist, not wanting to admit that Peter might be right (that's the Petrelli in her talking). Her other hand grasped her nightshirt and pulled it up revealing the long smooth line of her stomach, darkly golden when compared to the virginal white of the cloth.

It also revealed the lack of panties that she preferred to sleep without. Peter also preferred it that way.

Peter bit into her inner thigh softly, just enough to bruise without breaking the skin. "Take it off."

She did so willingly and eagerly, sitting up to fling it off before leaning back on her elbows to stare down at her lover hotly. His signature half-grin flashed up at her as well as eight inches of pure Italian steel. She licked her lips in anticipation and moaned when his rod grew another inch.

Peter licked his own lips and levered himself up on one arm. "Ready?"

"Oh, hell yeah..."

Claire's leg slid over his shoulder naturally, the other still restrained beneath him. He rubbed the tip of the vibrator around the lips of her vulva and smiled against the taut and jumping skin of her stomach when she moaned headily. She panted into her hand and her hips bucked against him. Her skin shone with sweat as she struggled to hold something, anything, back from this enigmatic man.

He rubbed the length of the toy on the outside of her slit, pushing it further and further inside the lips until he was grinding it against her mound and she was moaning loudly. It hummed under his hand and against her flesh, until it was so slick with her arousal that it was hard to keep in hand.

She was nearing her peak, the tightening in her loins, the shortness of breath, and the moans all becoming more extreme. When Peter pulled away she whispered nonsensically, wanting him to return and "finish" her.

He moved again, higher until he was face-level with her chest. His hot breath on her erect nipples was all she needed to cross the line and she twisted in sudden release. Her hips bucked and her back arched and she moaned into the humid air between them. Her toes curled and her nails scratched small lines in his forearms, until finally she lay limp beneath him, half-lidded eyes gazing at him listlessly.

"That was fun," she admitted as she lay there beneath him. Peter nodded and licked her nipple once before kneeling above her again. He grasped her knees and pulled her legs up until she was spread before him. Her glistening sex was flushed and temptingly sweet in the dull light of morning that colored the room.

"Now my turn," Peter whispered as he kneaded the flesh of her thighs, sliding his hands under her rear and pulling her closer. He rubbed the length of his penis along her, much as he had the vibrator. She slid sinuously in the sheets and bit her luscious bottom lip in anticipation of a good thrust.

She was disappointed when Peter moved back again. He rubbed his long sensitive fingers down her arms, grasping her smaller hand in his own. Her eyes jerked open when he wrapped her fingers around the vibrator and moved her hand downward.

"Peter, what-"

"Shhhh!" He said against her lips, smiling at her confusion. "Did you know one of men's favorite fantasies is of seeing their women touch themselves?" She shook her head, her blonde curls soft against his face and thick with sweat. "Do it for me, Claire."

She finally grasped his meaning but was frozen for a few seconds in indecision. She'd never used such a thing before and was nervous about the entire thing. Hell, just minutes ago the thought of using such a thing had disturbed her on a naïve child-like level remaining from her youth.

Peter, intuitive to her needs and thoughts, helped her along a bit.

Together they guided it into her, hesitating as it slid in all the way. Though the vibrating certainly made for interesting sensations, Claire couldn't help but feel a bit unfulfilled by it. Peter was both longer and wider than the man-made creation.

Still, it hit all the right spots to start her up another grand ride. The fingers linked around it, they moved the tool in and out and Claire bucked against their joined hands. She didn't even notice when Peter's fingers left hers and it was only her manipulating the toy.

She began to move it faster, her fingers tightening as she huffed in exertion. Her eyes fluttered open and locked onto Peter's aloof form at the end of the bed. He watched as she worked her body over, his hand fisted around his rock hard member. He squeezed his fingers and a bead of pre-cum formed on the head.

The idea that Peter was getting off on watching her made Claire feel a little bit naughtier. She moved her free hand up her body and watched as his eyes followed. When she wrapped her fingers around one of her breasts and squeezed his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

Her hand moved faster, plunging the vibrator in and out with increasing force. Peter's rushing breath joined hers in rhythm as without touching they moved together, his hips thrusting when hers bucked.

Claire hit her second crescendo of the morning, a small scream slipping past her lips and echoing off of the walls. She writhed in the open air and her fingers slipped off of the toy that remained inside her, vibrating away. Her arms fell above her head as she pulled the pillow over her face and screamed into it, getting off because of Peter watching her as much as her own ministrations.

Peter pulled the pillow away and fused his lips to hers. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, sliding it against her teeth in demand that she let him in. She wrapped her hands in his dark hair, pulling him closer. His hand slid down her lithe moving body, wrapping around the base of the vibrator and pulling it out quickly, pulling a loud moan from her still climaxing form.

The apparatus fell by the wayside as Peter rested his hips on hers, sliding into her with a loud groan. He began to move in and out quickly and easily as she wrapped her legs around his hips and held on. He went deeper than the toy, and harder. Where their flesh met a brief slap echoed, unheard above the heavy breathing and sounds of pleasure they both emitted.

Peter pulled Claire's head back by her hair, biting harshly at her neck as she continued to convulse around his thrusting shaft. With each push inside, he forced her higher and took away more of her control. Her nails pulled at his skin as she screamed into the bedroom, he laughed against her skin and fucked her harder.

A half-dozen thrusts later and Peter stiffened above her thrashing form. She stiffened around him and he grit his teeth against her skin, his hips holding her as still as possible as he slowly, very slowly drew himself out. She gave a little cry at the slow dragging of the movement before emitting a small squeal as he plunged inside again with force. He did that several times until finally his balls tightened up and he came violently inside her. Her body clenched around him as tight as her arms around his neck.

They eased down from the adrenaline and ecstasy high they'd reached slowly, their bodies chilling quickly in the cool air. With a sigh of contentment, Peter slid off of his young lover and onto the damp sheets beside her. Claire curled into his side with a sigh of equal contentment and idly ran her fingers down his chest.

"So, that wasn't so bad, right?" Peter asked quietly, watching the shadows of the tree outside dance on the ceiling.

"No. Actually, it was quite pleasurable," she replied cheekily, giggling when he pinched her bottom in warning. They stayed curled up like that for a long time, comfortable in the silence that stretched beneath them.

She didn't even notice when his hand started toward the drawer again.


End file.
